Always Frakking Alone
by Valantha
Summary: Five of the *uncountable* times Aaron felt alone. This is for the LJ 60 prompts in 60 days: Alone.


Author's Note: The story is for my bestest reviewer Kaylee, who wanted more stories about poor ol' Aaron.

Thank you to xyber116 for beta'ing this one-shot.

I don't own the characters or Revolution; I'm just playing with them for a bit for fun, not profit.

* * *

Aaron blinked away a few stray tears and studied his Game Boy intently. Link would never laugh at him like those mean kids did. Zelda would never call him a girly-boy. He had had such high hopes earlier. He had asked his mom for a basketball, for surely the other kids would at least grudgingly let him play if he brought his own ball, the excuse of "too many players, not enough balls" would no longer apply. Little did he know, but his mom had bought a **women's** basketball.

Aaron clutched the familiar plastic casing and played through the level, solved the puzzle, and paused the game. He imagined a world where he could zap himself with a ray gun and jump inside the Game Boy. He would run along side Link, let him fight all the monsters and he'd solve all the puzzles. Together they'd save Princess Zelda, and she'd give both of them a smooch of victory. While he was thinking about awesomely impossible things, how about a world where he was born into the 24th century, and was friends with Wesley Crusher? Together they'd save the ship and everyone would like Wesley Crusher and his good friend Aaron Pittman. Then he wouldn't be so lonely.

Aaron heard the bell ring and he stood up, wiping bits of blacktop off of his butt with his free hand. After recess was math, and he always liked math. While most of the other kids were still on the times tables, Ms. Vonnegut had him on more advanced worksheets multiplying fractions.

* * *

Aaron stared at the now cold ashes of last night's fire. The last night he had spent with Priscilla. He had snuck off under cover of darkness – for that was the only way to do it – and had left behind his wedding ring and his eternal love. He had wanted to get as far from Sean and the party as he could before daybreak, but had doubled back to catch one last glimpse of his wife. His to cherish and to protect, to have and to hold, until death parted them. An event whose odds increased exponentially in this new bizarre, powerless world.

Whatever happened the night of September 17, 2012, may have changed the laws of physics, but it did not change the laws of society, and society dictated that a man's role was to protect his family. Link rescued Princess Zelda; he didn't slow her down and have her risk **her** life to come back for him when they're attacked by bandits! Kirk didn't have the babe-of-the-week risk her life for him; he risked his life for her! That's just the way it was. Though, Starbuck and Anders had about equal rescue-age.

Anyways, Aaron was neither Anders nor Starbuck, he couldn't do diddly, and Priscilla would be safer with Sean. Before, Aaron had been a better provider than that former-Peace Corps wanderer, but now, after The Blackout, Aaron could think of no one better. He could find food, knew how to purify water, had basic first-aid AND self-defense skills. Everything Aaron didn't. Everything Priscilla needed.

Aaron spat into the cold ashes of last night's fire and rubbed his unfamiliarly naked ring finger. He knew he had done the right thing for Priscilla, but he still felt like the ashes inside – cold, abrasive, and black. Aaron stared at the fire until the raucous call of a stunningly close crow startled him. The bold bird had recognized Aaron's innocuous nature and was attempting to steal his lunch. Yep, here he was, alone with a frakking bird.

* * *

Aaron looked around the picnic table at the happy Matheson family. Ben must be so proud. He had a lovely wife, a cheerful little girl in pigtails, and a chattering little boy. Aaron didn't know kid's ages, but the girl might have been in elementary school – if those still existed – and the boy maybe three or four.

It had been nice to run into someone on the road who had recognized his name, and Ben had even offered to share his family's lunch with him. This had given Aaron a warm, unusual sensation, one he eventually categorized as "welcome." But now, with the little boy chattering on about tadpoles to his doting and amused mother and father, and the girl sulking for some unknown reason, Aaron felt just as alone as he had been while walking along the road all by himself. Aaron had tried to make funny faces at the girl to cheer her up, but she just stared at him like he was "River Tam talking to cows" crazy. He hated kids.

He should have known that his welcome would be short-lived. Being a tech wizard meant very little. Even less than it had Before. Unlike Dr. Gaius Baltar there was no post-apocalyptic fame or "hot-and-cold running interns" for Aaron Pittman. He had only been famous because his code helped Google make more money, thus he got rich. Had he focused on a different aspect of CS, maybe language design, no one would have ever given a flying frak about Aaron Pittman. Even for only an hour.

* * *

Aaron had **tried** to catch the eye of the poor wandering woman, but she, and her sick four-year-old daughter, had left with Jackson instead. As village teacher, Aaron had some extra food, and he wasn't going to ask her for what he **knew** Jackson was asking for, in exchange for some food and a warm place for her daughter to recover. It just would have been nice to be needed for once. For some short period of time, not to be alone in this suburban 4-bedroom monstrosity – though, to be fair, two of his houses Before had been bigger.

Aaron futility kicked at the big rock that stood sentinel over his lonely house and walked in the front door. Nobody ever locked their doors in Sylvania Estates, there was no need; anyone visiting was either friendly or more than capable of breaking down a door. Aaron padded over to his secret stash of moonshine and took a swig. He rejoiced in the familiar burn of the raw alcohol. He needed a little something to fuzz the image of the woman with jet-black hair and mournful almond-shaped eyes carrying her sallow daughter into Jackson's house. Aaron could accept that no woman would chose him over Jackson, but why didn't she pick up his innocuous vibes, and know? Aaron swallowed another mouthful of the coarse moonshine.

The woman reminded him too much of Priscilla, and he needed to **know** that she was safe. Aaron had left her with Sean and he had seen the way Sean had looked at Priscilla. With himself out of the way, he knew Sean would protect her. Eventually, as all the movies, video games, and storybooks said, they'd have a happily ever after, and hopefully, right now, they were telling their children cautionary tales about old, useless Uncle Aaron. Anything else was inconceivable. It was inconceivable that Priscilla might have pull an Ellen Tigh and frak some stranger for a bed and a meal. Simply inconceivable.

* * *

Aaron tightened the straps on his pack, hoping he had packed everything he needed and nothing he didn't. He tossed the unfamiliar weight on his back. He'd get used to it again, he knew. He wasn't about to let Ben's daughter march off after the Militia and Ben's son all by herself. He probably wouldn't be much help, but after all Ben had done for him, taking him in and giving him some semblance of a normal life, and there was no frakking way he was gonna let Charlie go off by herself.

Charlie had been so sheltered that she didn't know anything about the world outside. Aaron had always thought Ben babied his kids. When most of the girls her age were married with a baby on the way and maybe a toddler underfoot, Charlie still lived at home, with chores and a curfew. This was probably because Ben needed to keep something of Rachel's around. Aaron didn't really want to be the one to have to show her the horrors of the world, but the world **had** improved since The Dying Times right after The Blackout. Militia thugs probably would be the worst things they encountered.

And he had learned quite a bit of basic survival skills in the fifteen years after The Blackout. He had learned to purify his own water, clean and mend his own clothes, a bit of farming and animal husbandry, and how to actually use his firestarter. He wouldn't be completely dead weight. And he had promised Ben to take his ugly, heavy, necklace to a woman in Illinois. He didn't know where the Militia was taking Danny, or what to do when they caught up to them, but maybe afterwards they could go to Illinois and satisfy Aaron's promise to Ben.

* * *

- Author's Note: Reviews and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated :)


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